The Other Side of the Ocean
by India Squirrel
Summary: There're smugglers in Port Royal. They have no regard for the people - poor and rich alike. No one can find them. Except maybe a certain bold sea captain...please RR!
1. Default Chapter

My first POTC effort, please R+R. Hope you like it! Just revised – got a bit muddled up...  
  
~  
  
'What the devil is going on?'  
  
Swann threw the papers down on the table, hitting the hard mahogany with his fist. The orderly he was addressing winced, as though his master had personally criticised him, and began to make excuses.  
  
'Those are the statistics, sir. We've had reports from all over the Caribbean, and there's seems no mistake.'  
  
Swann collapsed into his chair, running a hand over his white wig.  
  
'Fifteen raids. Fifteen! Smuggling, theft, possibly even murder! I swear I've never had such bad crime rates in all my commands.'  
  
He took a deep breath, then turned to the orderly.  
  
'Mr Finch, I would like you to send messages to all the headquarters of the Caribbean and ask them to confirm these statistics. Because I just can't believe them to be true.'  
  
The orderly nodded, then stood uncertainly, waiting to be dismissed. Swann watched him patiently, then, in a fit of temper, roared at him.  
  
'For god's sake, man, don't dawdle! Go!'  
  
The man fled like a frightened hare. Swann stood for a moment, his chest ballooning, then removed his jacket and began to walk backwards and forwards between table and wall, clutching the red material as though it were life itself.  
  
'For God's sake, what is the matter with me?' he muttered. 'I used to be able to sniff things out like that (snapping his fingers) and now I can't even locate a gang of smugglers.' The last was shouted as he threw his jacket to the ground  
  
Elizabeth stood swiftly from the corner of the room, her taffeta skirt rustling as she crossed the floor.  
  
'Please, father, don't shout. You know what the doctor said.'  
  
Swann paced desperately, staring into space.  
  
'Fifteen raids, Elizabeth. Money, jewels, even children stolen from beneath our very noses. And what do we know of the culprits? Nothing, that's what. I tell you, it's at times like these that I wish I'd gone into medicine.'  
  
Will Turner followed Elizabeth towards her father, flicking his long hair out of his eyes.  
  
'Elizabeth's right, sir. You shouldn't worry so much. Things will sort themselves out.'  
  
Swann sighed again, his shoulders falling in despair.  
  
'I hope they shall, Will. Else I am going to be much more worried than I am now.' He bowed briefly, sighed again, and made for the door. 'I'll take my leave, if you don't mind. An old man needs his afternoon nap.' The door clicked shut behind him.  
  
Elizabeth sat in her father's vacated chair, staring out of the window.  
  
'He's right, you know, Will.'  
  
Will shrugged, picking up the red jacket and laying it carefully on the back of one of the chairs around the mahogany table.  
  
'What can we do?'  
  
'It's killing him. He should be resting, not fighting smugglers.'  
  
There was a pause, then Elizabeth spoke up again.  
  
'It's at times like this that I wish Jack Sparrow was here.'  
  
A fleeting smile crossed Will' s face.  
  
'That old pirate. He'd sort this out, though not in the conventional way.' He looked out of the glass window, watching the harbour. Elizabeth stood, and he slipped his arm round her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, echoing both their thoughts.  
  
'I wonder where he is now?' 


	2. The Lotus Inn

Thanks to Missy Mouse for reviewing my first chapter. Hope you enjoy the second... Introducing your favourite character...  
  
*****  
  
The Lotus tavern on Dockside was a rat house. Everything about it spoke of a drunken carelessness, from the uncomfortable list in its wooden walls to the battered grey sign that swayed lazily in the salt scented breeze. There was an aroma of burnt meat and cheap ale that hung around it like a shroud, and when the Commodore's men made their forays into Dockside, they avoided it with the utmost care. Situated on the shore near the fisherman's port, it was a den of drunkards, gamblers, thieves and pirates.  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow leant forwards in his seat, his eyes fixed on the cards in his fingers. The men across the table watched him eagerly, and the tallest of them, a veritable giant, fiddled thoughtfully with a shark's tooth necklace: there was no cheating on Dockside. Carefully, he rearranged a few cards, then lowered the hand to the table, letting it fall to the wood.  
  
His opponent let out a triumphant crow, throwing down his winning hand. The men at his back cheered delightedly, pointing at Jack with evil grins on their faces. The man stood from his chair and leant across the table. His breath reeked of fish.  
  
'Looks like you luck ran out, Jack,' he leered, his huge hands on the table. Jack waved a relaxed hand.  
  
'Looks like it, don't it?' His eyes flickered from door to window, and on to the roof.  
  
The man waited for a second then growled fiercely at him.  
  
'Then pay up!'  
  
Jack yawned, running a hand through his braided hair.  
  
'Well, you see, mate. There's a slight problem.' He leant forward so he was between the barman and the gambler. 'The money just happens to be in my boots – safe enough place. But if I bend down, you'll get your little friends (the giant stood next to the gambler bared his teeth angrily) to lynch me, rip me up and throw me overboard. And I don't fancy that.'  
  
The gambler grunted, his small brain working through it carefully.  
  
'Bend down, then. Very slowly.'  
  
Jack moved out from behind the bench, so he was next to the gambler. Giving a sad sigh at the loss of his money, he bent down, reaching his hand into his boot.  
  
'Just a bit further,' he murmured through gritted teeth. His fingers groped inside, then suddenly fastened on something. He smiled inwardly.  
  
'Here's your money, lads!' he shouted. 'Come and get it!'  
  
Swift as a snake, he pulled the dagger from his boot and plunged it in the gambler's foot. The man gave a roar like a wounded tiger and Jack pulled a face.  
  
'Time to be somewhere else!' he grinned, and raced for the door. As an afterthought, he turned back.  
  
'Oh, and by the way, it's Captain Jack to you!'  
  
He grabbed his dagger and made for the window as the barman leapt over the bar to investigate. The gambler was letting out enraged sobs as he pulled the dagger from his foot, and his gigantic friend was holding him upright, a look of repugnance on his face. Jack couldn't help grinning. A squeamish smuggler. Wonders never ceased.  
  
Quickly he leapt up to the windowsill, and gulped as he looked down. It was a long drop. But already there were men gathering behind, and a roar was building up in the dingy light of the bar. Swallowing nervously, Captain Jack Sparrow closed his eyes and jumped.  
  
He fell through clear air, his whole body tensed for the impact. The cobblestones rose to meet him, and he bent his legs to cushion the landing. Squeezing his eyes shut, he waited for a long moment of falling.  
  
Whoomph! He landed, and the bones in his legs jarred uncomfortably at the knee joint. Wincing, he rubbed his knees, muttering angrily to himself.  
  
'Getting to old to be jumping off buildings, mate.'  
  
'There he is!'  
  
Jack spun round, to be greeted by the sight of several irate drunkards raising towards him, branding weapons that ranged from an ancient deer's head off the wall of the pub to a beer tankard with a hole in the bottom.  
  
'Oops! Time to go!'  
  
He scampered away through the dingy alleys, wincing at every step. The mob yelled in fury and raced along behind him, their concentrated noise echoing over Dockside. Jack shuddered. This was not good. He looked around for a way out. Ah! There! A worn down old bungalow, leaning slightly to the side, with enough cracks to climb. But it might collapse under his weight, and that really would be uncomfortable.  
  
'Come back here, pirate!'  
  
He looked back in disdain.  
  
'You say that like it's a bad thing!' he spat on his hands and rubbed them together. 'Ah, well, here goes!'  
  
He dived for the roof as the mob turned the corner. Pressed flat on the hard slates, he peered over the top as the milled around in obvious confusion.  
  
'Where'd he go?'  
  
'He disappeared!'  
  
'He hasn't disappeared. Maybe we just ran to slow.'  
  
'Come on, let's go back a way. He might have cut round behind us.'  
  
The gang receded into the distance, the sound of feet on cobbles. Jack grinned, pulling himself upright, and brushing the slate dust from his braided hair.  
  
'Suckers,' he said with satisfaction. He turned to go and bumped his nose on something solid and unyielding. Looking down, he saw a pair of very large boots that were inhabited by some very large feet that were attached to a pair of very stout ankles. Slowly he worked his way up the body, taking in the enormous girth of the person in front of him, past the broad stomach and huge chest, up the elephant neck to the cold green eyes and the stubbly chin with its evil smile.  
  
'Suckers?' said the giant from the tavern.  
  
~  
  
Oooh, he's in twubble! If you read this, please review, but don't be too scathing! Thanks! Will he get out of trouble... 


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